All the Way Home I'll Be Warm
by Nynaeve1723
Summary: Light, little fluff fic involving Jordan, Woody and... Christmas carols. Rates T for one or two bad words and one body part mention the rest is implied.


A/N: So I don't know if I have ADD, just a dirty mind or what, but I honestly thought this up while at Christmas Eve service with my in-laws. Yeah, don't ask. I had no idea either that Christmas carols – one of my very favorite forms of music – could be used in this shameless manner. Hope you all enjoy!

Oops forgot to **DISCLAIM** in the first post: Don't own 'em. Willing, ready and able to stage a coup.

ALL THE WAY HOME I'LL BE WARM

Jordan tossed her keys on the kitchen counter of the condo she and Woody had bought the past summer. Their first Christmas here. Woody had insisted on decorating in a more than minimalist fashion, as was Jordan's wont. Hence, she grinned as she looked around, sprigs of mistletoe hanging in every doorway. ("Woody, we're _living together_, do you think we really need that silly tradition?" To which his reply had been a kiss that left her dizzy and the mistletoe in place). A tree glittered with strands of multicolored, chaser lights, popcorn hand-strung by one of Boston's finest (Jordan refused to say "finest" what) and a plethora of shiny, metallic spheres. Plus one Hallmark picture ornament that had a banner reading "Our First Christmas Together" along with the year. And the star. Somehow Woody had gotten a hold of the star that Jordan, her mother and Max had always had on the tree. Electric candles glowed in all the windows, and Jordan hadn't heard anything on their sound system that didn't involve angels, joy or jolly old St. Nick since the day after Thanksgiving. Woody had even made Christmas cookies and fudge to give to their friends to be handed out on Christmas Day after the turkey-and-all-the-trimmings dinner they were hosting. The man had more than enough Christmas spirit, and, deep down, despite the dry humor and occasional sarcastic remark, Jordan was enjoying it.

She knew he was home – the small crock pot of gingerbread potpourri was simmering fragrantly next to the stove – but he obviously wasn't on the ground floor. She took the steps quickly, doffing her jacket and shoes as she went; she'd had a busy morning of autopsies and an annoyingly slow afternoon of testifying. Truth be told, she was hoping to catch him under the mistletoe – not that it would be difficult given the plant's profusion in the house. She found him in their bedroom, lying on one side, facing the door and her jaw dropped at the sight of him.

Woody wasn't certain he'd ever seen Jordan Cavanaugh rendered completely speechless, but she was. Her jaw gaped open; her eyes roamed what he had on offer and she flushed a shade of bright pink he'd never even _guessed_ she could turn.

"What- What – My God, Woody! What the – the hell?"

He flicked up one eyebrow and gave her a look of challenge. "What? The outfit doesn't work for you?"

"Outfit?" She all but choked. "Outfit? You're – Those are – Woody, you're wearing … um…."

He grinned. "I wanted to show off my jingle bells."

She turned a shade deeper pink and then burst out laughing. "Well, I'd say you succeeded! Jingle _bells_?"

He gave a little swivel of his hips and the aforementioned objects shook lightly, emitting a high-pitched tinkling sound. "As long as you're not laughing all the way," he quipped.

She shook her head. "And just what were you planning on doing now that you've… shown off your… bells?"

He shrugged. "I was hoping I could deck your halls."

She gave another head shake.

"It is the season to be jolly, after all."

She moved toward him. "Fa la la la la la la la la?

"Well," he gave her his nearly-patented 'aw shucks' grin. "Not exactly _that_."

She continued to advance toward their bed, shedding skirt and blouse along the way. By the time she knelt on the mattress next to him she was down to bra, panties and the old-fashioned thigh highs she'd decided on that morning. "Then what _exactly_?" She leaned over and ran a fingertip down his chest, stopping to circle his navel. "And if your next words involve 'it came upon a midnight clear…."

He reached up and opened the clasp of her bra, pushing the garment away and nuzzling his face between her breasts. "How about 'o come all ye faithful?'"

She pretended to ponder that as his hands reached up to cup her and his fingers began a lazy torment of sensitive nerve endings. "A little 'joy to the world,' you mean?" She was slightly breathless.

"Something along those lines," he murmured, his hands sliding lower now, slipping beneath the waistband of her lacy underwear and tugging them off her along with the stockings. He nudged her hips and she obliged his unspoken request by straddling him. They both hissed quietly at the first contact of naked, intimate flesh. Woody's… bells made their presence known once more as well. "As long as it isn't a 'silent night.'"

She leaned over him, her hair cascading around them and kissed him slowly and thoroughly. "Oh, I have the feeling I'm going to 'have a merry little Christmas."

He arched an eyebrow again. "Merry _little_ Christmas?"

She laughed throatily. Her grin was electric. "Well, a "merry utterly, impressively, tremendously huge Christmas' doesn't exactly fit the rhythm of the song." She let her eyes travel up and down his body, her gaze appreciative, her tongue poking out to wet her lips delicately. "Now does it?"

In answer, he flipped her over, pinning her to the bed beneath his weight. He dipped his head to hers until their noses touched in an old time "Eskimo" kiss. "Ho, ho, ho."

She gave his shoulder a light slap. "Did you just insult me, Woody Hoyt?"

"I would never…," he murmured. "…insult you…," his blue eyes danced. "…like that, Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh." His lips found hers.

Jordan laced her fingers through his spiky hair as the kiss deepened. When they finally broke apart, her eyes were smoky, her body on fire. "Maybe …erm… Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer should… play some reindeer games?"

"As long as you promise not to roast my chestnuts over an open fire."

"Never." She gave him a serious look, behind which twinkled glee and a genuine satisfaction with life. "You know what they say… the fire is so delightful."

"Is that what they say?" His grin threatened to split his face from ear to ear.

"Hmm," she replied.

Hoyt shifted and slid into her. Their lips fused and their fingers twined as they moved together. It wasn't all that long before they both cried out, "O holy night!"

END


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